


drabbles, drafts and other deformities...

by decompdoll



Category: Murderdolls (Band)
Genre: Backstage, Board Games, Drabble Collection, Drinking, Ficlet, Ficlet Collection, Gen, Pointless, Quadruple Drabble, Scrabble
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:41:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26562304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/decompdoll/pseuds/decompdoll
Summary: A collection of contortions.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	1. pushups in drag (my cellmate's a killer)

**Author's Note:**

> this was originally titled as reso, which is the first chapter directly below. however, i have an unholy amount of murderdolls fic that i consider too short/pointless/boring/difficult to follow/or just plain unfinished rotting away in my word application. i thought it would be best to post them, but keep them in a little containment chamber for safekeeping. nsfw may pop up, it may not, but tags will change accordingly with each story added ×_×  
> as always, those referenced or depicted are not associated with me or my writings in any sense of the word. i do not profit off of my work and this is not made with ill intent, just fucking around and having fun.
> 
> EDIT: any fic that is unfinished with be marked with (*) and any fic that may be explicit [[will be in double brackets]]

"Quit whining! You still have two more sets! Come on!"

Joey declared loudly, crossing his ankles and folding his arms over his chest. It took Ben a solid few seconds to recognize what, or who, was straining in a pushup position underneath him. He couldn't really see Eric's face, just a mop of hair that he knew pretty well and shakey, fishnet clad arms pushed straight as he struggled to hold up Joey's weight. 

"Fuck!"

"Two more sets! You were so confident ten minutes ago, but you lost and now we've gotta get you up to speed with me! Come on! Head straight, go down until your nose hits the floor--!"

"Fuck you!"

"You know how to do a pushup, I shouldn't have to teach you this!"

"F-fff-fuck you! Fuck!"

Somebody must have turned the lights down while he was off finding more booze, the walls of their dressing room made a slightly less nauseating hot pink than they were earlier. Ben proceeded to finally shut the door behind him and go to take a seat beside Acey, spilling some of the contents of his cup on the armrest in the process. He frowned, realizing it had gotten on his arm as well.

"So,"

Ben said.

"What'd he do this time?"

Acey only shrugged, sliding limply down the back of the couch until his chin was about level with his chest. Wednesday continued rattling off about the techies as he sat on the floor, either chewing his nails or gnawing on something.

"Eric wanted to armwrestle Joey and he, uhh, well, you see. Got his ass kicked. Joey's... Joey. He drums, dude, I don't know what you expected!"

"Fuck you too!"

Joey was grinning, maybe drooling down his chin as he reveled in the pathetic struggle. Little guy was a sadistic fuck, sure, but this was just sad. Also funny to watch him roll onto his side and dig his elbow into Eric's back whenever he stalled.

Eric kept on cursing as Joey played coach, Acey was melting into the stained cushions, and Wednesday was growing increasingly engaged in his ranting, which was now free-floating even though Ben doubted he'd acknowledge anyone who might attempt to join in.

Everything was alright in the world.

Wednesday spat on one of Ben's shoes before he took a sip of his own drink and continued babbling.

Everything was not alright in the world.


	2. scrapesheep (scapegoat was copyrighted)

Wednesday rolled his eyes.

"What'd you mean you can't put down the same word twice? They're in different places. S'not against the rules."

"I'm one hundred and ten percent sure it is, dude. You can't just play god with the rules on old fucking board games."

Joey responded, tucking a thick strand of black hair behind his ear as he rubbed an M between his index and middle finger. Eric took another sip from his can, halfheartedly tuning them out as he looked to Ben, who was eyeing his own pieces intently.

The group was circled around the table, sitting on the dull carpet floor of their hotel room. At some point tonight they would have to figure out sleeping arrangements, being that they were all crammed together for their stay.

Whether Acey was still willing to share beds with Joey and wake up on the floor for a second night, and if Eric wasn't fucking around when he said that he'd rather sleep in the bathtub than end up getting spooned by Wednesday again were both worries to be delt with later. Right now, they had a game of scrabble going and whoever won got a week off of their daily peer-harassment. Eric's life depended on winning this.

"Look Joey, who cares if he put cock twice. Good on him for somehow getting doubles on four. Almost four. Three?"

"We can't just change the rules, motherfucker's gonna rig it if we let him."

Joey was surprisingly distraught over the game, considering that he was the one who orchestrated over half of the pranks that went on during tours. Acey could still count on one hand how many times Joey had something of his lit on fire. 

"Well maybe so!"

Wednesday laughed, taking the beer right from Eric's hand for a swig. His face scrunched slightly, before he shook his head and put it back in front of their bassist.

"Tastes like piss,"

"This can't possibly your first time drinking it, it literally always does."

Ben was awfully quiet, even given his usual silence. It was his turn, right? First Acey, then Joey, then Eric, Wednesday, fuck yeah. Counter clockwise.

"You okay?"

Joey asked, slurring his words a bit as he turned to look at him slowly. Ben glanced up and blinked curiously, before cracking his neck and picking up a letter piece that looked comically minuscule between his fingers.

To say that the same sort of fear sparked in both Eric and Wednesday when they noticed that he had a V was an understatement. In that split second and for that split second only, a spiritual connection of dread was formed between the two and would never see the light of day again.

Wednesday watched him place it six spaces ahead of his O and felt bile rise in his throat.

_V-O-R-_

Eric was gonna be sick.

_A-C-I-O_

There it was...

_-U-S-L-Y_

Wednesday let out a loud, dramatic groan and dropped backward, flat onto the floor like he'd been shot.

"Ya' fucking suck, motherfucker."

He listened to Eric lower his head, slow but heavy onto the table and bang it a few times, rattling the game pieces. That was... what, twenty four, twenty five points in one word.

"I don't get you! You've already got it made, _m-aaa-n,_ ya' could get twenty calls back even if you didn't know English and couldn't read past the seventh grade."

Wednesday said, tossing an arm in the air but not moving from his spot. Acey straightened up and leaned to try and check on him, but he just rolled his head to the side.

"Are you telling me to stop being literate?"

Ben chuckled quietly, thumbing new letters from the little blue sachet that was partially spilled beside the board.

"Yeah!"

Joey and Wednesday chimed together, somewhat out of time. 

"Leave some pussy for the rest of us, tallass." 

Joey trailed on jokingly, absent-mindedly offering Acey what was now regarded as their communal alcohol. He didn't even shake his head, he just looked at him curiously and Joey did the (albeit delayed) math. Eric had yet to lift his head and Wednesday remained splayed out on the ground. Maybe staying like this would solve their sleeping arrangements.


End file.
